With Somebody Who Loves Me
by nefertitis
Summary: Grantaire knew that being both a gymnast and a dancer had left her with only two options in life. The first was to become a stripper and the other was to go on So You Think You Can Dance. One of those options was a cheap, disgusting bastardization of a beautiful art form and the other was stripping. (Rule!63 Always female!Enjolras/Always Female!Grantaire)


Grantaire knew that being both a gymnast and a dancer had left her with only two options in life. The first was to become a stripper and the other was to go on So You Think You Can Dance. One of those options was a cheap, disgusting bastardization of a beautiful art form and the other was stripping. Sadly however, she had the beauty for neither.

Grantaire had other hobbies of course. Outside of dancing and art she had other hobbies. She kickboxed, and she was fairly decent at the art of capoeira. She read a lot, for fun or to make fun of old dudes with really ridiculous opinions, or when she really just wanted to know something. She used to do singlestick, which she actually kicked ass at. She used to be an amateur gymnast, which was fun but also took more effort than she was willing to put out. Look the point was, that Grantaire knew there was a ton of shit she could do without finishing school. But the end of the day all of her hobbies just meant that she was athletic and well read, but it was something. When it came to dancing though, she didn't really want to be part of a company. That required more ambition than she had. It's not like she was looking for permanence at the moment. She just needed something to do since not being active was hell.

So maybe, when she thought about it much, much later, dropping out of art school was probably a stupid idea. She'd heard it said to her somewhere around 500 times (which didn't even make sense because saying you have an art degree is basically just fancy talk for "a diploma in homelessness"), since everyone couldn't stop talking about their discontent. Her friends, her mother, her father (and didn't he just love rubbing that in her face. That she was just as inferior as he always told her she was) they all just kept hounding her about it and she wasn't even sure just how much she cared. It was Enjolras though, who kept looking at her with that disappointed yet sympathetic expression that she used only on Grantaire, that made her feel a twinge of regret. She used that face when Grantaire went off on ridiculous tangents during meetings, or when she drank too much and held on to her lest she fell, or even sometimes when she was sitting there just doing nothing. There was that look. She deserved that look sometimes, but definitely not now. She was a semi decent artist. She could admit that. But she never put in any effort and she missed more classes than she attended. Grantaire was 100% sure that she would have been expelled if she'd missed just one more class anyway so dropping out was basically just speeding up an inevitability right? School is just not for some people. Except no one but her was really seeing it her way, because everyone in her life chose this exact moment to be glass half empty, which-that was her job thank you very much. Grantaire uncharacteristically chose to be optimistic about this and look at it as an opportunity. She had way more free time now that she wasn't infrequently attending classes.

At least this way she had more time for dance.

If there was one thing Grantaire would admit to loving, it was dancing. When you're onstage you never get to be yourself. You're a pair of star crossed lovers meeting in your secret spot. You're a woman telling the story of how you endured cancer. Or if you want to get extra pretentious you're the physical embodiment of an angel of death trying to tell yourself your own fate? Yeah. She'd actually done that dance before until she decided to stick to ballet and classic contemporary and to never fuck around with interpretive dance ever again. The point was; that when you're dancing you get a break from being yourself. Everything that's you is gone. It disappears until it's just your body and the music. Everything gets lost in your footsteps. She would call it an escape but it's better than that, it's more therapeutic.

Yet even with all that, dance was still an infuriating sport, (yes it's a fucking sport) because the minute you stop practicing you're basically as good as a five year old going to her first dance class. Grantaire had a leg up in that department since there was that amateur gymnast thing and she'd never quite quit those classes so she still at least practiced her stretching, but still that wasn't enough. She wanted to not suck when she got back to her studio. She wanted to not suck when she found a new partner and when she went home with her feet bleeding and that perfect blend of pain, exhaustion and accomplishment.

Oh right she forgot to mention that. Dancing? Dancing hurt. It's painful. Especially when you're out of practice. Sure she had that particular brand of masochism, desire to please and vague, un-admitted pretentiousness that made everything a little bit easier. But she hadn't taken a class in about over a year and her last dance partner had moved on. Ages ago. She's pretty sure she doesn't remember his name. (She does. She misses him. A lot.)

So the problem here was that Grantaire needed a new dance partner. When she had first started taking classes again and saw a surprising but very familiar face in her the studio, he became a very good contender. Marius Pontmercy in all of his graceless, adorable, puppy like glory came to the studio a few months in. At first she'd just assumed that he came to pick Cosette up. She'd never seen her at the studio before, but she was tall and she generally looked so lithe and slender, like a swan. She had a dancer's body.

(Grantaire didn't. She was a few inches too short and her tits were bigger than they needed to be, but she still managed to be a decent dancer so she gave herself an A for effort...or maybe a B...a C- at best)

She never expected Marius to be the dancing type because well, there was the graceless bit that she'd mentioned before but apparently as he later told her, his grandfather forced lessons on him when he was younger because he was too shy to talk to the girls his age. He'd liked it well enough that he continued taking classes until he'd left. She was never quite clear on why he left his grandfather's but then again, it wasn't any of her business. Not if he didn't want it to be. Her business was to find a partner and Marius was a great one. He was shockingly good with her, (And she was aware of how shitty it was that terms like "shocking" and "surprising" were the ones popped in her head anytime Marius was remotely good during their practice but she couldn't help herself) and ballroom dancing was different than contemporary but he was a quick learner. His technique wasn't the best, but his eagerness and energy made up for it. Sadly though, their romance turned out to be ill fated.

* * *

"I'm quitting the class." Marius said to her one evening after studio as they were walking to The Musain. "I-I only started again because I didn't want to embarrass myself when I took Cosette to her cotillion training, but I think I'm better now so I have to do the classes with her."

"You're a fickle bastard Pontmercy." Grantaire joked. She knew he wasn't serious about it. Hell she wasn't even that serious about it. She just didn't want to quit quite yet.

"I feel bad about leaving you without a partner again though."

"I'm like a dancing pimp." Grantaire smirked and nudged his side playfully. "I'll turn one of my friends out in no time."

"Maybe Bahorel then." Marius' usual solemn expression gave way to a grin. "He'd look great in tights."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." Grantaire nodded gravely. "He really does have the loveliest thighs." She ignored the way Marius coughed and blushed red.

However; midway through the meeting that Grantaire was barely paying attention to, Bahorel, in a truly Bossuetian (Bossuetensian? Bossuetey?) fashion tumbled over the table in the back bringing down Feuilly, Jehan, Joly and three pints along with him.

So maybe not Bahorel then.

* * *

She also ruled out Joly, Feuilly, Bossuet and Combeferre for obvious reasons. Out of all of her friends, Joly was probably the most fun but he and Combeferre were both pre-med. If she asked Joly he would try and take time out to dance with her, but she'd feel like a shit about it and Combeferre would just flat out say no. She was charming like that when she was stressed. Feuilly worked two jobs to get himself through college. And Bossuet was...well he was Bossuet. So that ruled most people in her somewhat large group of close friends.

Combeferre being the only girl in that subgroup of friends that she didn't bother asking, had a sternness to her that made Grantaire nervous half the time, but she looked like she would be a lovely dancer. All long limbs and a willowy physique. Long limbs, willowy physique and absolutely no time to spare.

Same sex dancing however. That was an idea. Most of her other friends would be willing. Well probably not Enjolras. She would most likely say things like "Dancing is a graceful sport but how does it help with the freedom of women? We have to put aside these frivolous activities and focus on what's important. Liberty." Or something like that. Grantaire could never quite imitate Enjolras properly; it was like trying to mimic like a deity. Not something that was easily pulled off. Cosette would probably be even busier than Marius what with her coming out into society, so she was another one that wouldn't be able to. With Marius and Cosette busy, Eponine would spend her time more bathed in drink than Grantaire usually was on a bad day, so she was also out of the question. (She filed that away in her mind and reminded herself to check up on her soon.) That only left Courfeyrac and Jehan.

Courfeyrac was the most fun to dance with. She was nimble and energetic, even more energetic than Marius, which Grantaire had expected. She was also very eager. When they danced though, they did it on and off. Grantaire booked the studio whenever Courfeyrac said she was available (the tragedy of having friends who did serious majors) and when she wasn't she'd dance with Jehan which was a win/win scenario as far as she was concerned. She got to spend extra time with her friends and she got to dance as often as she'd liked.

Her dancing relationship with Jehan however, lasted longer. When Courfeyrac begged out, offering midterms as her excuse why, she and Jehan started dancing more frequently. They fit together perfectly. Jehan was a natural. The way they twisted and twirled across the room was almost effortless. They'd danced together for almost a month and Grantaire was thrilled. Jehan was a quick learner. It was almost scary how fast she remembered her moves. The first time they'd tried Pas De Deux, Grantaire almost wept. She immediately wanted to go out for drinks after because she had that bouncy feeling she usually felt every time she could admit to herself that she did something right.

"Are you sure you want to go drink now?" Jehan asked, biting her bottom lip nervously.

"Jehan my darling, even though I'm still vaguely out of practice I just did a quadruple into an arabesque and I didn't fall flat on my ass. I'm getting drunk."

"Grantaire I have something to tell you." She bit her lips nervously, and Grantaire sighed.

* * *

"I've just been dumped again." Grantaire sighed, sliding in next to Marius while Jehan went to get her an apology drink, which really wasn't necessary but she'd it accept anyway.

"What?" Marius asked looking up from his book in confusion, as though he didn't realize that he was in a crowded room full of people he knew. He was in the corner reading The Communist Manifesto. In German. Grantaire didn't know whether she wanted to ruffle the fluff he called his hair affectionately or tease him about it. She tried to remember the little German she learned in college and decided to do both.

"Reading Marx in polite gesellschaft? Honestly Marius, have some class." Grantaire said and Marius groaned as Grantaire's hands played with his hair. He really did have fluffy hair. Like a pillow. Or a cloud.

"You can pretend you don't want to laugh all you like. Communist jokes are priceless." He rolled his eyes and whatever Grantaire was hilarious.

"Jehan decided end our clandestine love affair to run away with Courfeyrac." She sighed.

"Oh." Marius furrowed his brows, seeming to accept her metaphor without blinking. "Did she say why?"

"Apparently she thinks dancing takes up too much energy and she'd rather do it for fun." Grantaire threw her hands in the air. "Like what the fuck? It's not like I'm getting a paycheck at the end of the week here. We barely even practice and the only reason I'm doing this is for fun."

Marius winced and Grantaire punched his arm in question, which caused him to wince even harder. "I'm just saying. Sometimes you're a little bit...intense. No. Don't look at me like that." She tried to school her outrage into something calmer. But really no one had ever accused her of being too intense. It was ridiculous when you thought about it. "Don't pout. You're a great dancer Grantaire, you just make it hard to keep up with you sometimes."

"I do n-" "Yes you do." Jehan interrupted setting a glass of bourbon (good girl that Jehan) before her.

"Well then." She huffed taking a gulp of her drink, because what else could she say. Apparently she's a tyrant.

Jehan hooked their arms together and rested her head on her shoulder. "You're wonderful my love, but you have this passion stored deep inside you that's been far too stifled for far too long, and when it comes it comes forth with the ferocity of a monster."

"So...I'm a monster then?" Because, um, if this was supposed to lift her spirits...

"Everybody knows I'm a motherfucking monster?" Bossuet supplied helpfully as he sat opposite them. "I'm highly offended that you never asked me to join your dancing harem by the way. I'm shocked and appalled. I'm a fucking awesome dancer."

Grantaire dropped a kiss on Jehan's head before weaselling out of her stronghold and dropping herself onto Bossuet's lap. "It's best you stick to your law books dear heart. Don't meddle in things that would leave other people severely injured or quite possibly dead."

Everyone at the table started laughing, and when she was unceremoniously dumped on the floor, well it was only fair.

It was two days later that a new prospect came to her in the form of what she genuinely assumed to be a hallucination. Because Enjolras and her dancing. Enjolras and her in very close proximity, skin touching, looking into each other's eyes, falling madly and passionately in love...okay maybe not the last one but she was allowed to dream. Technically she never did usually. Dream that is. Not about Enjolras. Enjolras was off limits, even in her head. So when Enjolras miraculously appeared outside her flat (okay so maybe she took a bus or something, but still her existence in itself was miraculous to Grantaire and that was enough) smiling nervously, the first thing Grantaire thought was the she took some bad acid the night before. It wasn't until she noticed that the apparition was actually speaking that she paid attention.

"So it appears you've given all of our friends a dancing bug?"

"I-what?"

"Courfeyrac and Jehan started taking ballroom lessons together." She wrinkled her nose at that, which was either a dig at ballroom or a dig at Jehan and Courfeyrac, but she was too confused to focus on that. What she did focus on however, was the fact that Enjolras was apparently telling her a story about dancing. Well specifically her dancing. Because as if she wasn't perfect enough Enjolras could dance.

Enjolras' dancing story was vaguely similar to Marius'. She had to take all sorts of dancing lessons including ballroom when she was training for the Crillon ball (Because Enjolras was a débutante! She was actually one of the stunning, model worthy girls wearing couture at le Bal des Débutantes in Paris!Which...well...of course. Grantaire had just always kind of assumed that Enjolras' parents were nouveau riche because of how...eccentric they were they few times she'd met them, but apparently not) and she'd stuck with it.

"Dancing clears my head." She said and Grantaire was trying not to scream at the fact that they actually had something in common. "I didn't want-Well I mean, freshman year I didn't really have the time so I might be rusty, but I have the time now, and I really did want to start again. So if you're still looking for a partner?" She looked at Grantaire expectantly and Grantaire knew that she was looking at Enjolras the way one would look at a ghost, because Enjolras was never hesitant or nervous and she never looked at Grantaire hopefully, or wanted to spend time with her when she didn't have to and Grantaire was about to faint so anyone would forgive her for what was obviously some form of speech aphasia, except she didn't have a stroke recently or ever, and she didn't fall on her head as a child, although she did have some suspicions about that one because Enjolras was standing there, in front of her asking if she wanted to be her dance partner and instead of screaming yes in her face which would perhaps be a little bit frightening but still it would be an answer, she was speechless.

Enjolras' face fell after a few minutes of silence and she looked like she regretted ever starting this conversation (and quite possibly ever even meeting Grantaire but that was another story entirely). She shook her head and turned around to walk away when Grantaire panicked and grabbed her wrist. "I'd love to dance with you." She said, way louder than she needed to, if how wide Enjolras' eyes became was any measure, but a smile spread across her face and Grantaire would have given anything to immortalize this moment. Enjolras was smiling at her (at her!) and there was no disappointment or distain or judgement in the smile, just pure unadulterated joy and Grantaire wanted to melt on the spot.

"Really?"

"Yes." Grantaire grinned, because she really couldn't stop grinning now, but she bit her lips before asking. "Do you want to go get some coffee? So we could talk about what dance and what we're going to do of course." She added hurriedly.

"Okay." Enjolras replied slowly. "Can I have my hand back though?"

Grantaire dropped it as though she'd been burned and her face reddened. She ducked her head, so she didn't see the way Enjolras touched the spot that Grantaire held with a strange sort of reverence. She just grabbed her black leather jacket before stepping outside with Enjolras and smiling at her anxiously as they made their way to the nearest cafe.


End file.
